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“Ava lied to me.”
“Okay. What about and why do you think she lied?”
“She said she had a meeting with Robert this afternoon, but I bumped into him at the coffee shop close to the office and he said she’d rescheduled.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s lying.”
“I was worried because she wasn’t herself at lunch, and people have been talking… I think she’s overworking herself and…”
“Get her an assistant,” she says like that’s the fucking issue I’m trying to work out.
“Yes, I know. I’m on that already.”
“Good.”
“I tried to call her and it went to her voicemail.”
“Right…” She’s already looking at me like I’m being an unreasonable asshole, and I haven’t finished.
“I sent her a text, and she didn’t reply.”
“So you called her again?”
“Yeah, and she texted me telling me she was in her meeting.” I sit, going over everything I’ve just told her, feeling like a whiny adolescent.
“Damon, it sounds like she wanted you to stop calling. Maybe she wanted some space…especially if she’s not feeling herself. Being a woman is fucking hard, okay?” Fran rolls her eyes with a give me patience laugh. “Besides, Robert isn’t her only client. Not to mention that she could’ve rescheduled the meeting after she left you and again, didn’t want you all up in her space and making her feel worse. You guys can be so overbearing at times. You make shit harder than it has to be.”
“Don’t preach to me about how Grayson takes care of you. That’s not what I was doing at all. I was just making sure Ava was okay.”
“So, she answers and tells you she’s had to reschedule because she’s that sick. What would you have done?”
I have a feeling this is a trick question that’s only going to make me look like an even bigger ass. But I answer it honestly anyway because Fran lives to point that shit out.
“I would’ve gone to her. Made sure she was okay. Taken care of her.”
“Is she an invalid?”
“No.”
“Is she dying?”
“No.”
“Is she incapable of looking after herself?”
“I guess not.” She gives me that be real look. “No.”
“So, we agree that your little freak-out is completely blown out of proportion and you’re being a tad melodramatic.”
“When you put it that way…” I bury my face in my hands.
“Damon…” The chair beside me scrapes on the floor before Fran sits with me. “You love Ava, and I know that it’s hard for you to see the people you love hurt or feel shitty. But sometimes, the best way to love someone is to give them space. Especially if they’re feeling crappy or overwhelmed. Fuck, sometimes we just want space for the sake of it.”
“I know. And I’m a jerk. And I’m sorry I came to whine about it to you.”
“Are you kidding me? This is great. I love that you’re on your toes with her. Right out of your comfort zone.” Nudging me with her shoulder, she asks, “Is she going with you to the awards next weekend?”
“Yeah.”
